


The Good, The Bad, The Pretty and The Rich

by ZaeBee



Category: RWBY
Genre: Alternate Universe - Western, Beehaw, F/F, red dead redemption locations only, saloon fight
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-08
Updated: 2019-07-18
Packaged: 2020-06-24 10:32:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 12,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19721878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZaeBee/pseuds/ZaeBee
Summary: Yang, a fearless bounty hunter, rides into the town of Valentine for work but all she finds is trouble.





	1. Bounty Hunter

Shouting from within a saloon, smashing of bottles and breaking of tables following afterwards. A real ruckus. It was a saloon fight. Something that the town of Valentine had grown all too used to by now. One that the women who started it would soon leave. 

“Ahh!!” Her scream-like-shout echoed as she was thrown through the saloon's window—the glass shattering onto the wooden pathway just outside. She went past that, through the old wood guard rail and onto the muddy road. She just laid there for a moment—a moment before the doors would open—looking up at the sky.

“Having fun?” A black, medium length haired women with tanned skin blocked out the sun—sitting atop her Friesian stallion that seemed darker than the night itself. She wore normal farmhand clothes; high black work pants with leather chaps, a collared white shirt and muddied boots. 

The blonde stood up and patted herself down a tad. 

“Very much~” she grinned. Her golden, now dirtied hair was longer than the one beside her—it was longer even than most women who lived as an outlaw, but she had it tied in a simple long braid, so it seemed shorter.

She wore black, work type jeans with a plain brown leather belt and metallic buckle. A brown leather trench jacket resided over her top half with a lighter brown vest and a white, dirtied shirt under that. Criss-crossed ammo belts—half full of red shotgun shells—hanged over her vest, barely hidden by the coat.

“Can you actually do me a favour and go back in there and check for a man known as Conner?”

“No need.” She stated. “He’s in there, alright. Him and his buddies threw me out the window–”  
“Yang!!!” The black haired man, who just exited the saloon, screamed. “You owe me!!” 

“Y’know, I think we’re even since you threw me out the window, and all.” her words ticking him off even further. 

His eyebrow twitched and, “Think again!!” he drew his pistol—a five shot revolver—it was old and weathered but it could still kill like any other weapon. 

Yang, as soon as she realised, went for both of her double-barreled, sawn-off shotguns that resided—in their holsters—on her hips. Her draw was slower, after all, this type of gunfight wasn’t really her thing. A single shot fired, and lucky for Yang, it wasn’t from the black haired man. 

The women on the horse. She drew her revolver as soon as she saw the man known as Conner come through those doors. And by the time he went to draw. She blasted a hole right through his stomach. And then followed it with another, and another. 

Yang quickly spun around to see the black beauty, her gun still smoking. A pearl gripped, polished metal 6 shooter. It was odd seeing a normal looking woman with a six-shooter. They usually were only something a gunslinger or some gun nut would have. And judging from her shot, she wasn’t the latter. 

“I warned you not to fuck with my family or the farm.” She spoke with a tone colder than ice. 

Another two men rushed from within the saloon. A shotgun in one’s hands and a revolver in the other’s. They were met with the same led as their leader and dropped right beside him, crying and moaning. However, unlike him, they were only shot in the legs. 

“Th-thanks for the save,” the blonde finally spoke up again. 

“I’m sure you would have somehow handled him.” She slowly began to ride off.

“Hey, wait up!” Yang’s words just fell on deaf ears. She then whistled for her horse. An almost golden yellow buckskin mare with black mane & tail rapidly approached. Yang swiftly jumped, giving it “yah!” along with a light kick with her spurs—nothing harmful. In no time, she caught up to the black beauty. 

“Where’d you learn to shoot like that?” The blonde asked, now riding up beside the Friesian stallion. But she just sped off again without answering. 

“Hey, hey!” Blondie called out to no avail again. But, again, she caught up. “What’s with the rush?”

This time the other girl just sighed. Still continued to ride, hoping the blonde would leave her but knowing she wouldn’t. “What do you want, Blondie?” she sounded annoyed. 

“Name’s actually Yang,” She, over the gap between their horses, extended her hand for a handshake. However, the other girl didn’t even take notice. “I just thought it was exciting to see another woman out here who was like me—maybe we can–” 

“I’m nothing like you, cowboy.” she cut yang off. 

“I’m a girl. Is it really that hard to tell?” 

“You’re still a murderous thieving outlaw like the rest… scum with no morals.” 

“What? Hello? The pot called, ms kettle.” 

“What!?” she shot Yang a confused look. 

“You just killed a guy, without mercy, in one of the fastest draws I've seen.” neither spoke. “By the looks of things, he probably wasn’t your first blood either.” this time the girl pulled her stallion to a direct halt. Yang stopped too. 

“I only kill when there’s no other option. I don't steal, I don't do whatever the hell I please.” she shot yang another look, this one much colder. “That man did whatever he wanted in this town. He took what he wanted and no one said a damn word. Even the law knew and did nothing.” 

“You didn’t try beat the crap out of him?”

“... I did. He and his crew just killed half our livestock for it.” 

“Oh...” 

“You’re a ruthless criminal, just like him. I’m just trying to live a peaceful life with my family. _We are nothing alike_ **.** ” She suddenly sprinted off on her horse, kicking the dust as she went. 

“...best not follow her this time…” 

“Good choice, Yang,” A rather big man walking up from behind called. She sighed and spun her horse around. 

“Sheriff Port!” Yang gave a fake smile. 

“You’re not getting out of this one scott free, Yang, a man is dead.” 

“You know I didn’t kill him!” 

“We can talk about it later.” Their argument was beginning to draw a crowd. He got closer to speak quieter. “Don't forget our deal. After all, one word from me and everyone knows exactly who you are, miss Branwen.” Her eyes changed. She shot a stern look, and when she spoke, her voice was completely mono.

“You’d be signing your own death warrant, sheriff.” 

“And you’d be signing away whatever the hell it is that you’re up to in Valentine… just come along so we can work this out,” he whined.

It was a staring contest for a moment, ‘till Yang decided she was too exhausted for a fire-fight right this minute. She sighed in defeat. 

“...Fine.” 

* * *

The black stallion stopped just outside a farmhouse and the black haired women hopped off, patting him and hooking him up to a post before leaving. She headed straight to the farmhouse. The farmhouse surrounded by land on the farthest outskirts of Valentine. A cattle farm that unfortunately had recently lost half of their livestock. Times were tough now but the family had been through much worse in the past. 

The woman knocked at the door and waited some seconds till someone answered. It was an older woman who looked almost exactly like the one who knocked but had shorter, greyer hair and aging wrinkles. 

“Blake, deer, you’re okay!?” 

“Yeah, I’m fine, mom” 

Blake’s mother—Kali Belladonna—quickly pulled her daughter inside. “I heard about what happened in town…” 

“We both did.” Her father—Ghira Belladonna—approached. She knew how mad he was. Earlier in the day she had gone directly against him and killed the black-haired man who’s name she was already forgetting. But it wasn’t just because of that. His voice was only this stern when he was truly angry. 

“I’m sure everyone in the town knows by now.” she attempted to ditch the conversation and headed to the kitchen. 

“You do know what you’ve done, right?” her father followed. 

“Dealt with our gang problem.” 

“Dealt with?? You made it much worse again.” Blake just ignored his words for a moment and pulled out her knife, sticking it into a can of beans she grabbed from the cupboard earlier. “I told you, Blake, killing him would only anger his gang even more, and yet, you went and pulled the trigger anyway… I’ll have to go try patch things up with them so you don't get killed...” 

Instantly, after she heard her father, she slammed her fist onto the table. 

“When did you become such a coward!? The man I knew as my father would never have bowed down to outlaw scum like him!” 

“I don't expect you to understand but what you call cowardice has kept this family together and alive for all these years since you left us.” 

“...you’re right. I don't get it. I don't understand how a war hero who fought for what was just and right could turn out like this.” 

“Maybe when you have something, someone you can't bear to lose and would do anything to protect… maybe then you’ll understand.” 

“...No.” she looked down at her beans that she had opened but yet to eat. She wouldn’t be eating them, her argument had made her lose all appetite. “I'd sooner die than become like you.” 

Her words hit a nerve. “At the rate, you’re going, you will!” neither spoke for a moment. “We were so happy when you came back to us, Blake… so very happy. But… maybe it would have been better if you stayed away…” he left the kitchen after that. 

“Maybe you’re right.” she wiped her knife on a cloth and sheathed it back in her belt. ‘At Least then I wouldn’t have seen the pathetic coward that you’ve become,” she spoke just loud enough so he’d hear her from the other room. After that, she took off. 

“Wait, Blake!” her mother yelled from the porch. But Blake didn’t wait. She just hopped onto her horse and rode away. 

Ghira came up from behind Kali. 

“Why’d you have to say that to her…” she spoke. 

“...maybe now, if she leaves Valentine, they won't worry about her...” 

* * *

The next morning. Yang suddenly awoke to a loud metal banging on the cell bars. 

“Ugh, Jesus, Sheriff!” he stood sliding his revolver over the bars. Yang ended up spending the night in a cell. The reasons the sheriff gave were pretty much that he just needed to show face to the people and that Yang needed to have some sort of punishment for starting that fight in the saloon. 

That previous night she argued. 

_“I only ‘technically’ started the fight!”_

_“You punched him in the face. Everyone saw that.”_

_“He touched my hair!”_

_“You still started the fight!”_

_“What if some creepy outlaw fuck touched your hair, huh, sheriff?”_

_“I’d throw him right in that cell where you’re standing.”_

_“Exactly!!”_

_“But I’m the sheriff, and you’re not.”_

_“For fu–”_

He unlocked the door, cutting off our little flashback. Yang soon left with her gear and a simple warning. 

“No more fights, alright?” 

“Go fuck yourself, Sheriff.” 

It was actually around noon when Yang had woken up. She knew this, not only cause the height of the sun but she pulled the pocket watch from her jacket. The time was exactly 12:24. 

“Lazy bastard, you were supposed to let me out in the morning…” She put away the watch and just looked around. Everyone seemed to be pretty much doing their own thing without taking much notice of Yang. granted, these days it was best to not make eye contact with any kind of outlaw—regardless of gender—less you wanted to start a fight. “Whatever… she doesn’t arrive till tomorrow anyway…” 

The Saloon. The window was still smashed and the wooden guard rail was also still broken. She wanted to go in and get a drink but figured she’d lose her purse before she’d even be allowed to order. 

“Excuse me, miss.” a woman behind her spoke. Yang turned to meet her. Something about her seemed eerily familiar. 

“Have you seen my daughter? She didn’t return home last night…” she continued before promptly shoving a photo of her family in Yang’s face. 

And there she was, the mother of the family. The father was a bulky one, he held a Buffalo rifle across his chest. They all shared one trait that was very familiar to Yang. And finally, when she saw the daughter, it clicked. The 3rd person in the photo, the girl who was missing, it was the woman from yesterday. 

“Her name is Blake, have you seen her?” 

“Yesterday.” Yang replied. “She saved me from some outlaw, shot him dead right on these very steps.” she gestured to the steps of the saloon. 

“So it’s true…” 

“Yup. Quite a badass if I say so myself” 

“What am I going to do…” the mother continued to mumble to herself. 

“I’m sure your husband has things handled.” 

“He’s out searching for her but… I think that gang might have taken her…” 

“Well, I'm sure you know but the sheriff is right down the road–” 

“You’re joking right?” 

“Uhh, I know he’s a lazy bastard and all but he’s you’re sheriff, right?” 

Kali just scoffed “He’s taken more money from them, then he’s actually been paid by his job.” 

“Right…” Yang slowly tried to step away while the women thought to herself. 

“Wait!” she yelled. 

_Her it comes_. Yang thought to herself, knowing exactly what she was gonna say next. 

“Can you find my daughter?” 

“Uhhh.” 

“Please, there’s no one else I can ask!” 

“I don't know… take on a gang just to save some girl? That seems like a lot of wo–” 

“I’ll pay!” she cut Yang off. 

“Alright.” 

“What?” 

“I'll do it.” 

“That was… really fast.” 

Yang just smirked. “I'm a bounty hunter. Finding people for money is what I do.” 


	2. Plans

Yang stepped down from her horse. 

“You lost or something?” a raggedy looking man who guarded the way forward with his rustic double barrel shotgun asked. 

“Don't think so?” 

“Then you know you’re on O’Rae land?” 

“That was my hope.” 

He fixed the aim of his shotgun to Yang, wary of the blonde. “What business you have with us?” 

“Calm down. The sheriff sent me to warn you lot about someone.” 

“Oh…” he lowered his weapon a little. “Well, spit it out then!” 

Yang stepped closer, and this time the man didn’t see her as a threat.

“He didn’t tell me personally but he gave me a note.” She got even closer again, pulling the note out of her satchel. The man abruptly snatched it from her hand and took a moment to read it.

“Yang?” he looked up at her, confused. “Who’s that?” and then, with her next words, the man found a deathly sharp knife in his gut, Yang’s hand over his mouth, muffling his screams. 

“I’m Yang.” His eyes somehow looking more surprised now than they were before.

With the body dragged into some bushes and hidden, Yang tied her horse to a nearby tree. Now, she followed the path on foot, assuming the camp wouldn’t be too far off since a guard was right here. 

The path twisted and turned as she followed it. Yang walked it for longer than 20 minutes now and still, no camp was in sight. The sun was getting low, and at this point, Yang was second guessing leaving her horse behind. That was at least until she finally heard voices. She left the path and went off into the bushy trees, continuing on in the same direction until she finally saw it—the gang’s camp.

Large tents and firepits scattered the area in front of her. She counted around 30 men at first. I guess they weren’t too worried about security since their wagons practically went unguarded and their horse left loosely tied on the outskirts of the camp. 

At the far end of the camp—basically the direct opposite side to Yang—around 150 metres away from her, give or take—there stood a cabin. A small shack-like-cabin with a yellow glow escaping from in-between the wood planks and the holes in those. Soon, Yang heard a girlish scream coming from that same direction. 

Her expression instantly degraded. 

_ That’s not good.  _ She thought, and soon her thoughts began to spiral even more.  _ She’s dead. she’s dead. she’s dead. she’s dead.  _ Finally, she ended that with a slap to her own face.  _ The scream doesn’t mean she’s dead… and even if she is, I owe it to her mother... to bring the body back. I owe it to her for saving my life, that I kill every one of these bastards. _

Yang would only put on a hard face most the time. Truth be told, even if Blake’s mother hadn’t offered the reward, she still would’ve gone anyway. Yang was just like that. Good, in a sense. But something also felt different this time. 

She had to think of a plan to save Blake as fast as she could. Rushing to her side was the first and obvious option that came up, but doing that right now, going in guns blazing would only get Yang killed—Blake too if she wasn’t already dead. There were probably more men in that camp than she had previously counted too. With those numbers against her, she really needed a plan... otherwise, she might as well just dig her grave and lay in it, right here, right now. 

_ Plannnnn _ she thought to herself. Suddenly, she remembered something and reached into her satchel. She pulled out—her plan. A stick, Almost red, it was more brown to be honest though. 

“Should still work,” she grinned. 

  
  
  
  
  
  


Yang waited till nightfall, and then easily snuck through the camp. Snuck? She casually strolled through it. Due to its size she assumed not everyone would know each other and she’d be able to get through with ease. But that was another, albeit, easily solved issue. She was a woman in her early twenties. If they knew that, she’d attract unwanted attention like she usually did in a saloon, or anywhere else. Though this would be much, much worse. 

Before she took her stroll through the encampment, she rubbed mud over her face, dirtying it to try look like one of the gang-men. She hated the next part, but it had to be done. She unplatted her hair and tied it into a manly pony-tail before finally rubbing mud through it. Most of these fellas looked like they’ve never seen a bath before, nevermind care for their hair. 

“I’m sorry.” she apologised to her dirt ridden golden locks. 

There was one more, not so tiny, issue. Well, two of them to be exact. Her boobs. They were above the average size of most women she’d see, and definitely bigger than most men’s. If she strolled through there like this, they’d just stick out like a sore thumb. but this wasn’t her first rodeo– I mean, it wasn’t the first time she snuck into a place that was for the male species only. 

She took off her trench jacket and shirt, and then finally, the bandages that were used to support her. Usually she loved that feeling but not right now, not in the middle of moonlit woods as she was about to invade a camp full of ruthless outlaws. Not as she was about to rescue the Belladonna girl, or possibly retrieve her corpse and then wage a war. 

She began to put the bandage back on. But this time it was tighter, much tighter. Like a corset but worse, much, much worse. Yang successfully flattened herself considerably and now was ready. She re-dressed herself, and finally, when it was time, she lit the dynamite’s fuse.

  
  


  
  


Finally, Yang was almost at the cabin. She stood basically 20 metres from it and waited. 

“Come on, any moment now…” She quietly spoke to herself before... a few very short seconds later… BOOM! An explosion to the east of the camp. East if you considered the cabin to be north of where Yang started. 

Everyone was startled by that—how could they not be? The shockwave could be felt all throughout the camp. And just like moths to a light, they went to it. Even the cabin guards left their post. And Yang, she snuck in. 

There she stood. Black hair that was straighter than most. Eyes golden like fire and a stare colder than the night’s wind. Hand tight on her gun—the gun that she pointed directly at Yang’s head. There Blake stood. 

“Woah there cowgirl!” Yang yelled. It had all happened so fast. She rushed in there, sawn-off shotguns high and ready to take out any guards inside, but she only found Blake—standing over three, presumably dead, bodies. 

Blake pulled the rusty 5 shot revolver back with a sigh of relief.

“What are you doing here!?” She asked. 

“I came to rescue you?” 

“Do I look like I need rescuing?” Blake rebutted. 

“Well… it sounded like it before? You screamed?” 

“That was one of them.” 

“Oh…” Yang snickered a moment. 

Blake just sighed again, slightly irritated. “My mother sent you, right?” 

“Yeah, she spotted me just outside the saloon.” Yang now stood, sorta awkwardly, against the closed wooden shack door.

“How much did she offer you?” 

“Huh, why’d you instantly assume that for me to do something good, I have to get paid?” Blake just gave her a deadpan look. 

“...twenty dollars.” 

“We’re good for the money but I don't need your help, nor want it, so you can go now.” 

“Sorry missy, but I'm not one to leave a job unfinished,” Yang smirked. That just tickled her off even more. With every minute around Yang, Blake just seemed to more and more annoyed. But she held back her irritation for now. 

“I’ll find you and pay you tomorrow. Your job is done.” 

“You’re not home or safe,” Yang spoke again. “Job’s done when it’s done.” 

Blake seemed to burst a blood vessel at this point. “I said pis–” Talking from outside the cabin caused Yang to stop her. She covered Blake’s mouth with her own hand. Blake was ready to bite it off and would’ve if Yang hadn’t gestured to the outside, then slowly removing it. It was lucky Yang heard them talking and reacted when she did, otherwise, things could have gone very badly for the two.

“Great, now you’ve wasted the perfect opportunity to escape!” Blake whispered. 

“Shit…” Yang cursed. Blake walked closer, shoving Yang out of the way. 

“Hey!” Yang complained.    
“Shut it.” Blake hushed her and peaked through a hole in the door. 

She glared back at Yang again. “I don't like it but the only way we’re getting out of her now is if we work together.” 

“Sounds like a plan.” She smirked, smacking her fist into her open palm. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The year—1890—doesn't really come up in this since it's not too important but i thought id just drop it here in case someone was wondering.


	3. Un/Lucky

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So i changed my mind and just decided to post the last chapters, till bee week, today too

Yang called the guards inside with her masculine, gangmen voice impression. And the moment both were in, they dealt with them. Yang shanking one and stopping his scream by covering his mouth like before, while Blake came out from behind the door and put him into a choke hold of sorts. 

“That’s that then,” Yang spoke. 

Blake gave her a face that said it wasn’t however. 

“Seriously, what now?” 

“you're free to leave me whenever you wa–” 

“You already know I'm not gonna do that.” Yang cut her off.

“Fine… the leader of this dump stole my gun and either stored it on himself or in his tent.” 

“And let me guess,” Yang spoke plainly, “you want to go get it back.” 

“I have to.” 

“It’s just a gun, go buy another one back in Valentine!” 

“It’s not ‘just a gun’ it belonged to my brother.” 

“Well why can't he buy a new one, I thought your family was pretty rich–” Yang realised abruptly upon seeing Blake face and just sighed. “He’s dead isn’t he?” 

“Yeah…” a lie. In truth, the gun just belonged to her father. Blake wasn’t sure in that moment exactly why she lied. Maybe she just thought it’d get the argument over with much sooner or if she actually wanted the bounty hunter to help her. The bounty hunter who irritated her like no one else really did. Maybe she just wanted her help as she crept through the outlaw-infested camp. It was odd to Blake, she hated outlaws more than most and yet… Yang felt different. It was almost like, what irritated Blake the most wasn't the fact that she was an outlaw. 

“Well if we’re gonna go sneaking about, you’ll need a disguise.” Yang looked around and then went over to the man Blake had choked out earlier. “This one will do.” She pulled off his dark brown, almost pitch black, trench coat and handed it over to Blake. She threw it on before showing it off to Yang. 

“How’s this?” 

“Hmm, you’re missing something…” 

“What?” Blake asked. And right after, Yang realised.

‘Oh, mud!” 

“Don't you fucking dare.” 

“Or we can just leave your brother’s gun here? Honestly, I'm fine with that.” Yang stated. 

Blake just sighed. “Alright, but I'm doing it myself.” 

“Hehe, sure thing.” 

Blake scooped some mud off the floor just outside. The wet texture from rain a few hours ago still throughout it. The grimey feeling between her fingers was unpleasant, to say the least too. She rubbed it on her face and every feeling from before just got worse. 

“You happy now!?” 

“Ahehehe.” yang just started to laugh. 

“What??” 

Yang moved closer and rubbed some of it off her face. “That’s better.” 

“...” Blake said nothing, feeling somewhat awkward. 

“but… it’s not quite enough.” 

“Don't!” Blake instantly realised what she meant. 

“Just hold still.” Yang grinned, a hand full of mud. 

* * *

When they finally headed for the leader’s tent—that was in the centre of the camp—Blake’s face wasn’t the only victim of Yang’s disguise. Her hair was now filled with drying mud, just like Yang’s. 

The leader's tent was the largest and most luxurious in the whole camp. Its shape was octagonal and had complete privacy. That was lucky for Yang and Blake. They were lucky this guy had a complex for acting better than everyone else because otherwise, it might have been harder to sneak into his tent. For whatever reason—be it he just didn’t think someone would sneak into the leader's tent or just that one guard at the front was enough—It didn’t matter. That single guard would stop no one. The two just snuck around to the back and went under the canvas, easily getting inside. 

“Okay, now where’s the gun.” Yang seemed to ask the room. It was rather spacious inside after all. But it was mostly cluttered by a bed, cabinets, a closet, red carpet even, and many random boxes, smaller chests and containers. 

“Shh!” Blake suddenly hushed, covering Yang’s mouth. She heard someone outside. They quieted and soon began to eavesdrop on two outlaws talking outside. 

“What happened over there?” the one who was stationed out front this tent the whole time asked. 

“It was just some random explosion.”    
“There’s no such thing as random explosions, idiot!” 

“Maybe someone used it as a distraction to sneak in here then.” The instant they heard those words, Blake went for her gun—removing her hand from yang’s mouth—but Yang stopped her, she put her own hand over Blake’s. The touch calmed her for some reason. Yang’s face, the look in it. It was reassuring. 

“Yeah. right! Who’d be dumb enough to sneak into a camp with over 40 armed guys!?” 

“I don't know, it was just an idea!” 

“A real dumb one!” 

“As if your dumbshit “random explosive” one was any better!” 

“Screw you! I just came over here to talk, I don't need to deal with your shit.”

“Hey, wait, I'm sorry!” The other outlaw who came around for a chat finally wandered off with the original guard chasing after. 

Yang and Blake let out a heavy sigh of relief.

“That was close.” Yang spoke up.

“Yeah…” Blake looked at Yang still. She just stood up abruptly, going off to search for her gun. Yang did the same.

While searching, Yang realised something. Something that should’ve been plenty obvious.

“Wait, this isn’t even your brother’s gun is it?”

“Found it!” Blake yelled silently but sharply as she pulled the gun from a desk drawer. 

“Oi, answer me.” Yang spoke again.

“What? We found the gun now lets go–” 

“Whose gun is it really?” 

“...My father’s. Can we go already?” 

“So your brother isn’t dead?”

“I don't have a brother.” 

“Because he’s dea–”

“Because he doesn’t exist, I lied.”

“Oh… Yeah, that’s what I figured.” 

“Can we leave now?” 

“Why do you need permission to leave, thought you wanted to do this on your own?” Yang played.

“Ugh, whatever.” Blake headed for the back exit.

“W-wait up!” 

Yang lifted the canvas as Blake headed under it.

“After you milady~” 

Blake just tried to ignore her words with a slight blush on her face. 

Footsteps on the carpeted floor—from the entrance. All of a sudden Blake and Yang were caught like two mice in a trap. The man was confused at first but soon he wouldn’t be. Talking wasn’t an option out of this one. Before he even opened his mouth, Yang shouted out first. 

  
“Run!” all the while pulling out her right shotty with her left hand, and without perfecting her aim, she fired. 

“Intru–” the shotgun pellets blasted the words right out of his mouth. Another man rushed through the entrance right after, catching sight of Yang slipping out from the canvas. He pulled his pistol, without thinking like usual. His bullets flew through the canvas, leaving holes behind—the leader wouldn’t be happy about that later on. 

This was the only situation that Yang hated having sawn-off shotties in. Double-barreled and single triggered. She was forced to fire both shots at once. And the range wasn’t much to write home about either. But their power, the pure destruction they could cause up close, nothing quite matched it for her. She loved that about them... in most situations anyway. In that way, she suited them and they suited her. 

“Blake, shoot long!” 

“Got it!” 

Yang led the charge as they ran as fast as they could through the camp. A great number of murderous outlaws behind them. She headed to the forest where she hoped her horse would still be. Bullets flew past, barely missing the duo—it was a miracle from God herself that they weren’t blasted to bits as they ran. Or just plain luck? It was closer to the fact that half of the camp was all the way out investigating the explosion, though they headed back once hearing the gunfire. 

Men soon started to arise in their way. Standing pissed off, smelling like crap before they’d even kick it. Yang put each one down with a simple but terrifying shotgun blast. And the ones further away? Blake’s deadeye aim rivalled even the most legendary gunslingers. She took them out before even letting them set their sights on Yang. 3 shots fired, 3 outlaws down, and only 3 shots left in the revolver. Unfortunately, she chose to ditch the rusty one that she looted the moment she found her pearl gripped, shining silver six-shooter. Luckily, however, she chose to keep the rounds from the rustic piece. Blake reloaded after spending the last three chambered rounds. Even Yang’s stock of slugs on her criss-crossed belts were running low now. Luckily again, they reached the edge of the camp, heading right for the forest. Unluckily, the rest of the gang wasn’t far behind.


	4. Dark  Violet Eyes

They ran through the forest, Still being shot at, bullets still barely missing. Bushes and long grass brushing against them as they went. 

Yang tripped a moment—Her foot got stuck under a thick branch, hidden in the grass.

“Shit!” she yelled as she fell. Blake, without a moment of thought, stopped and rushed back some metres to help her up.

“Don't die on me just yet!”

“What?” Yang started to speak as they begin to run again—side by side. “You actually care about me?” she grinned.

“Without you, I doubt I'm gonna find that horse, so in that sense, yeah, I do.” Blake put it plain and simple, but her voice was less cold than usual. 

“Ouch.” Yang still just grinned. 

* * *

Eventually, the gang lost sight of them but they still searched. The forest had grown much quieter without all the shooting and shouting, all the galloping and stomping. Now only the birds chirped and hooted, critters scuttered, leaves brushed against each other in the wind and insects made their—creepy for some—little weird noises. That’s not to say there wasn’t the occasional gunshot from a spooked outlaw who thought he saw something out in the cold darkness.

“So where is your horse anyway?” Blake whispered, creeping beside Yang. 

“Would you believe she’s between us and the gang?” Yang also whispered, an awkward ‘oops’ expression on her face that Blake could barely make out. She groaned silently—well, silent enough so that only Yang could hear her.

“What do we do now!?” 

It only took Yang a moment of thinking to come up with the plan—mainly because she had previously already thought of it. And unlike last time Blake wasn’t very confident. But they’d try out the semi-flawed plan once more anyway. Once more trying to sneak through the group, the group that was now looking for them. 

_ “We already look like them, so if we just pretend that we’re looking for ourselves–”  _

_ “Alright, I get it,” Blake spoke knowing it was really their only option, but still reluctant to go along with it.  _

They crept out of the bushes and toward the main group of outlaws. They just got closer and closer, no one yet to noticing them. To Yang, this almost felt like it was becoming a habit now. But to Blake, while she was greatly skilled with her pistol, a situation like this just put her on edge. She didn’t feel like this back in the camp—not even while they were being chased. But they were being hunted now. That was the difference. If anyone of them spotted that Yang and Blake weren’t actually members of the gang and were in fact, not only women but the ones they were now hunting—there was just no chance they’d make it back into town in one piece, nevermind alive. 

_ How are you so… _ Blake just kept her eyes on Yang. It was the only thing that’d help her not lose her mind.  _ How are you so calm and… confident, even in this mess?  _ She wanted to ask. 

They were in spotting distance now. Members of the gang glanced at them for moments as they looked for the very ones who were sneaking by them. Blake’s steps began to feel heavier and with each one, she grew ever more paranoid. The distance past the gang seemed to grow even longer, at least it felt that way. With each outlaw that she saw look at her, she thought that was it—that they’d been spotted—that it was the end. She kept her hand over her six-shooter the whole time. She’d take out a few of them before going down herself—she’d make sure of that. But these thoughts didn’t comfort her really. In a way, they just made her feel worse. She didn’t want to die out here like that. She didn’t want to die period. But being caught out here like this… a quick death was all she could really wish for. 

Blake finally felt sweat trickle down her face. She realised how cold she felt even though she was wearing a rather warm coat. Felt her feet stop as she felt her gut drop. When she heard a voice shouting behind her, she felt her revolver’s smooth pearl grip, and it’s cold metal surrounding, tighter than ever before. And then she saw the only thing that calmed her the entire time. Dark violet eyes that shined even in the darkness. 

“What was that!?” Yang shouted back to the outlaw in a masculine voice. 

“I already looked at them woods and found nuffin!” Clearly, the man wasn’t actually an american. His tone had a British, Londoner ring to it. Yang knew this even though she’d never actually left her own country, but she’d seen plenty of English bastards during her time. 

“I don't expect a Londoner to know ‘nuffin’ about american forests, so I'm gonna take a fucking ‘gander’ over there myself!!” Yang mocked aggressively. 

“You mock me won more time you–” a fist cut him off—attracting the attention of every outlaw nearby. Yang had broken his already broken nose and knocked him out in the grass with a single punch. 

“What!? I'm not gonna let some English prick tell me where to look!” truly, the rest of the gang would have done the same if the cockney had told them where to look. So none cared much about what happened. They laughed it off and went about their hunt. 

Blake only stopped panicking once they got out of the gang’s sight again. She collapsed to the ground, breathing heavily. Yang crouched ahead of her and, 

“Are you alright?” 

“Yeah...” Blake looked up and saw those calming eyes again. “Thank you for back there…”

“That's my job remember?” Yang smiled.

“Right,” Blake stood up, “don't want to go losing your payday.” she started to walk off. 

“You really think that lowly of me, don't you? I couldn’t possibly just care if you get home safe.” Yang quickly caught up

“That’s not what your type does.” 

“My type? The type you think I am, would have taken you from that shack and then extorted your family for more money before giving you back, if I even planned to even give you back!” Yang snapped. She had, had enough of Blake’s attitude toward her. Blake just stopped in return. Yang continued to speak. “But I get it, you hate outlaws.” 

“No…” Blake turned around to tell Yang the truth. “I… I’ll admit that you’re not as bad as other outlaws.” 

“Finally!” This time Yang spoke a bit too loud, and in her normal voice too. And at that moment, she not only spotted the horse a few metres behind Blake but also the bandit next to it. Blake noticed where Yang was looking. She noticed the 'oh crap' expression on her face. She turned and saw the outlaw draw. But Blake was always faster, and much more accurate. 


	5. Cowgirl

Led flew through the forest again. Horse hooves ripped up the dirt road as the chase continued—as Blake and Yang fled from their pursuers. 

Blake fired back at the gang that they were still running–no, now were riding from. Yang sat up front, hands tightly gripping her horse’s brown leather reigns. She whipped them with a “Yah!” urging her horse—Bumblebee—to speed up. Blake sat behind. One arm around Yang’s waist as she faced behind in a corkscrew fashion to see the bastards chasing them. And with her other arm—her other hand held her six-shooter as she pulled the metal trigger, blasting the closest one off his horse. She adjusted her aim to shoot the next galloping gang-men. ‘Click.` was all she heard. 

Blake turned back to the front, putting her right arm around Yang to hold on—pistol still in hand—while her other searched her pockets for a few more revolver rounds. 

“You’re getting pretty comfortable grabbing on to me, Miss Belladonna~” Yang flirted even in this situation. And even though Blake couldn’t see her face, she knew that cocky blonde outlaw was smirking wildly. With a slight scoff and the roll of her eyes, she yelled back.

“Why don't you keep that pretty, smart-ass mouth shut while we try not to die!” 

“Ooo, yes ma’am!” Yang snickered. 

Luckily, in the flirty exchange, Blake reloaded the remaining four rounds she found into her revolver. She switched hands on Yang again, and with the flick of her wrist, the ammo chamber closed. It took her mere moments before she found her next target. Bang. and the next. Bang. two rounds left now. She wouldn’t miss and waste the shots but with 5 left on their tail, she didn’t just want to kill the closest two outlaws creeping up, she wanted to keep the rest of them off her and Yang too. But as they got closer and closer, Blake seemed out of options. She pulled the trigger twice again. Bang, Bang. two consecutive shots and two consecutive kills. 

“Damn,” She cursed. 

“Out of rounds?” Yang asked. 

“Yeah… you wouldn't have some on you, would you?” 

“No, but I have something better. Ember and Celica, take them!” 

“What??” Blake didn’t understand what she meant at all. 

“Oh, my sawn-off shotguns, that’s their names!” She laughed. 

“RIght…” 

“Just pull them off my hips!” yang yelled. Blake just sighed momentarily. 

“I know you’re smirking…” 

“Heh~” 

With no other choice, outlaws creeping up even faster now since the forest was clearing—the end of it in sight—Blake gripped her left arm even tighter around Yang and pulled Celica from her holster. She swiftly turned around again but this time none were there. Yang, however, caught one in the corner of her eye—on the left a horseman had caught up.

“Blake, on our left!” Yang called out. Blake began to turn, but on their right was another horsemen. 

“Over here too!” She aimed Celica. Yang at the same time pulled Ember from her holster. Now only with one hand on the reigns, she aimed. And almost at the same time, they fired. 

Celica’s shot blasted into the dirty outlaw’s chest, throwing him off his horse. Half of Ember’s pellets missed but the other half snagged the outlaw’s face, tearing it up and making him fall off his horse too—but he still held onto the reins, god-fearing as he refused to let go, as he was dragged along the dirt forest path—away from the duo. 

They came bursting out of the forest. Still being chased by one last outlaw. But Valentine was now in sight, and they rode directly for her. 

The single outlaw—hair orange like a clementine and wearing a black bowler hat over it. The rest of his outfit was rather fancy too, dirty, but fancier than any other outlaw they had seen tonight. They slowed their horse till they were stable and then reached for the Winchester rifle slung over their back. 

“We did it!” Yang cheered. 

“He’s not following us...” Blake still looked back. 

“He’s probably too scared since Valentine is so close now!”

“Maybe… He’s just sitting there–” Blake saw and realised everything in that moment. The moment before the outlaw would pull the trigger. The moment before Blake would push Yang off the horse.

With a thud and a yell, Yang hit the floor. And just a half a second after, the Winchester bullet ripped through Blake’s chest, right below her left shoulder. Blood splattered. Some hit Yang’s face even. Blake screamed as she feared for her life, as she felt the pain course through her. The horse even got spooked and jumped, and Blake, barely able to stay conscious, Blake fell off. But she wouldn’t hit the moist grass like Yang. 

Yang caught Blake in her arms. She watched everything happen. Confused at first as to why Blake pushed her off, but when she saw the splatter, heard the screams and the winchester's fury cut through the air—she knew. She rushed to Blake’s side as she fell. Blood still spilled out through her arm and clothes, getting all over Yang and her own clothes—joining the other blood and mud stains.

“You saved me!? Why’d you do a stupid thing like that!?” 

Blake could only smile in that moment 

“why’d you save a no-good outlaw like me!?” 

“Bounty hunter,” she corrected. “ You’re a beautiful bounty hunting cowgirl.”


	6. All the way to hell

“DOC’!!” Yang booted in the door, shouting– no, screaming for help. A man came down a set of stairs in the small wooden Valentine building. He wore nothing but light pink Pajamas and held a mean-looking shotgun at his waist. He pumped it upon seeing Yang—covered in blood and holding a body.

“What the bloody hell are you doing at this hour, woman!?”

“She’s been shot!” Panic clear in her voice as she carried the unconscious, very roughly patched up but still bleeding, Blake Belladonna.    
“Go get her patched up at the saloon! Do you know what time it is!? It’s like–” 

“If you don't help her, Old man, I'll put a hole in your fucking skull twice as big." She glared something mean, something terrifying. Almost made him forget he was holding a shotgun. She made him feel powerless with it. That red stare... colder than snow, ice even, yet the fire that burned inside made hell’s own pale.

“L-lay her down over there!” He gestured to the lanky red couch. Yang carefully placed her on it, making sure to not drop her head. She had already been through enough pain already. 

* * *

Half an hour later. Yang sat against the couch, on the floor, as Blake slept peacefully on it. The doc’ had done his job well. Blake’s arm no longer bled and was stitched up neatly & cleanly. 

“I hear Mrs Kali was looking for someone to save her daughter much earlier today... “ the doctor spoke up, trying to alleviate some of the silence. “I’m sure she’ll be glad to hear that you succeeded.” 

Yang just scoffed. “Blake saved me…” 

“Oh... well, nonetheless, I'm sure she’ll be happy to see her daughter alive and well.” 

“Just alive…” 

“She’ll be fine. Belladonna's don't go down easily! Back in the day, I had her father in here more times than I can remember. Her mother was really something too!” He chuckled upon recalling his glory days. “I think I better actually go ride down to the Belladonna farm and tell them the good news!” he rushed out, probably faster than he ever did in his life. 

Yang turned her head and glanced at Blake as she slept. 

“I’m… sorry…” She shut her eyes for a second. For a minute. An hour. She fell asleep. 

* * *

Their mouths opened the moment they entered the doctors building and saw their daughter, just sitting up, watching over someone who slept.

“Blake!” Blake’s father yelled. 

“Blake, thank god you’re alright!” her mother exclaimed, running over and hugging her daughter as she still sat on the couch. 

“Shhh,” Blake hushed. “You’ll wake her up.” Clearly, she meant the girl who sat against the couch. The girl that had woken up and secretly clutched Celica the moment she heard the door open. 

“It’s fine, I'm already awake,” Yang spoke, finally opening her eyes and standing—with a stretch—to meet Blake’s parents. The Doc wasn’t here anymore. Yang noticed him slip away as the place, his own place, just felt too crowded for him to handle. He escaped to the saloon to try calm his nerves. That red stare haunting him as he drank. 

“Sorry…” Blake apologised to Yang. 

“No, it’s fine.” Yang gave a slight smile. 

“Oh, sorry miss, we rushed over here and forgot to actually bring your pay for saving our daughter…” 

“That’s fine, there’s no need to pay me.” 

“Oh, but I thought that’s the only reason–” 

“Your daughter saved me in the end.” She gave a slight smile and a look to Blake—who now also stood.

“That’s kinda why I got shot,” Blake added. 

“Ouch, just give me all the blame, you could’ve saved yourself.” 

“Would you have?” 

“.... maybe,” Yang smirked. 

“Well, see, I gotta be better than a cowgirl bounty hunter now, don't I?”

They just flirted. 

“What kind of a hired gun ends up letting the person that they’re supposed to rescue, get hurt!?” Blake’s father—Ghira—remarked with a stern, angry tone. Yang opened her mouth to reply but words came flying out of Blake’s much sooner. 

“The type who would’ve got me out of there without any trouble if I didn’t care about this!” She pulled her revolver, mid-sentence, and threw it onto the floor, at Ghira’s feet, by the end of it. He glanced down at the pearl gripped silver pistol and then back up to Blake. “If I didn’t make her help me bring that back, then I’d be fine.” 

“Blake–” Yang was cut off once again. 

“So, you’re telling me that she couldn’t just tie you up and drag you out of there as any other bounty hunter would!?” 

“Blake wasn’t a bounty.” 

He shot Yang a mean look before speaking again. “Kali, this was clearly a man’s job. Hiring this ‘girl’ was a mistake.” 

“Here we go again with your bullshit!! If I was a man, you’d have celebrated all the vile shit that I did in the white fang gang!” 

“If you were a man,” he stepped closer, reaching for Blake, “id have beat you black and–” Yang stepped forward. This time she cut him off. That same cold, fiery red look from before in her eyes. 

“I don't really care what you say about me.” Her voice too, colder than the temperature outside. “But if you ever think about laying a hand on Blake... I’ll tie you up and drag you all the way to hell myself.” Yang stepped closer to Blake’s side again. And even Blake stared at her father coldly. 

Ghira, on the other hand, just bent down to pick up his old revolver. When standing with it again, he extended it out to Blake. —holding the barrel end. 

“Keep it.” She too spoke with an ice-cold tone. 

Ghira just sighed, and Kali finally broke the silence. 

“Will you be coming home tonight?” 

“I don't think so, mom.” her voice was considerably warmer toward Kali. “ill get a room at the saloon for awhile—plus, I owe Yang a drink anyway.” 

“You do?” Yang asked, confused. 

“Yeah, for the– you know??” 

“Ohhhh, yeahhh…” Yang lied. She didn't actually know what Blake was talking about but went along with it anyway. 

“Well, we’ll see you tomorrow then, Blake.” Kali looked a little sad as she left with Ghira. 

“Yeah, maybe…” 

“Don't do anything stupid. Ghira had to have the last word as he left. 

The door swung shut and the Belladonna parents soon enough road off. Blake finally let out a rather loud sigh when she knew they couldn’t hear her. 

“Sorry about that,” Yang spoke. 

“I'm pretty sure that’s supposed to be my line,” she laughed. “My dad’s an asshole, it wasn’t your fault.” 

“...So, anyway, what's up with this drink we’re supposed to be having?” Yang asked. 

“Oh, that?” Blake laughed again. “My father hates me going to the saloon, so I just said it to piss him off.” 

“Ohhhh…” 

“But, y’know, I could do with one if you’re still up for it?” 

“Of course I am, what kinda rootin tootin cowboy would I be if I wasn't!?” Yang laughed and Blake joined before correcting her. 

“Cowgirl, you mean!” 


	7. Questions

In the Saloon—cheerful and wild drinking music played on the piano. People shouted and laughed, played and gambled, took escorts upstairs, and flirted with each other down. They drank litres and litres of poison, not giving a single care as they did—as it flooded their mouths. It was overall a good night. Yang was even forgiven once Blake told them of her heroics and also shifted the debt to her father. 

One drink turned into 5 and Blake & Yang just couldn’t keep their eyes off each other. I mean, that was partially due to the game that they were playing but y'know. They sat at a poker table, playing a guessing game since the night was too uncivilised, chaotic, for actual poker. 

Yang had a card stuck to her head—a card that had a single name on it. And Blake had one too. 

“Am I over 30?” Yang asked. 

“Nope,” Blake smirked. 

Yang took a drink with every wrong question she asked. It was the same for Blake. That was the rules they played by. Yang was about 5 in while Blake was only 3. 

“Am I… human?” Blake questioned. 

“Nope.” Yang now grinned for a moment, till she saw Blake’s face. Blake’s face that said exactly what the blonde feared—who’d have to pay for all the drinks they had—who the loser of the game would be. 

_ There’s no way she actually knows, right? She’s gotta be bluffing.  _ Yang thought, trying to centre herself. 

Sure of herself, Blake drank her shot of whiskey in one swift go. 

“....Am I a woman?” 

“Yep.” 

“Woo!” Yang cheered. 

“Blake just grinned still. “But now it’s game over for you, Yang.” 

“You’re bluffing!” she yelled. 

Blake just gave her a final smirk before, “I work for an old man. I have brown eyes. I'm from the north. I'm loved by many and I'm older than thirty.” 

“NO.” 

“I’m Rudolf the red nose reindeer!” 

“Ahhhhh!” Yang whined. “HOW DID YOU KNOW JUST FROM THAT!?” 

Everyone around them cheered, they hadn’t quite seen a game like it before—it was exciting and yet harmless. 

Blake still just wore her grin, like the hot mess she was, and picked up her final shot before, “That’s my little secret, babe.” She winked, taking the shot as a victory drink. 

After that, Blake, drunken as she was, dragged her even more poisoned blonde friend over to the bar. When they left, all the other fellas just started to play the game in their place.

“Pay up, Blondie.” The bartender stated the moment she got there. 

“Yeah, yeah.” She slurred. 

“Blake just giggled as Yang forked over the cash.

“Y'know I think that game was rigged!” Yang yelled. 

‘Oh, yeah? How so?” Blake took a seat at the bar, and as Yang began her explanation, she did the same. 

“I was already 3 drinks in when we started!” 

“And?” Blake raised an eyebrow.

“You were one in!! By the time I got a ‘yes’ I had drunk three more and you had only one more!” 

“Hehehe, I just asked the right questions was all.” she smiled mockingly, trying to get a reaction from Yang. 

“It was rigged!” 

“Oh, shut up!” Blake playfully pushed. 

“So… we played your game.” Yang gestured over to the ruffians who were now playing it. “Now let's play mine.” she grinned. 

“I feel like I should be scared.” 

“Oh, you should~” 

“Hmm… fine! How do we play!?” Blake asked, giving in. 

“It’s easy! I ask you if you’ve done something, and if you have, you drink!” 

“Okay… sounds simple enough.” Blake spoke with an unsure tone. 

“Yup!” 

“But wait, how do I win?” 

“Uhhh… you don't?” 

“What!? What kind of a game is it if you can't win??” 

“We just kinda used to play it till one of us blacked out.” Yang shrugged. 

“Yeah, no, I'm not doing that.” 

“Alright, alright, first person to drink… let's say 10!” 

“5! 10 is wayyy too much.” 

“Ugh, fine.” Yang just mumbled her next words, “lightweight…”

Usually, Blake wouldn't fall for that. She’d never get baited into something by an off-hand remark. But this time, it was like she wanted to. 

“Fine. First to 7 drinks loses!” 

“That’s more like it, Blakey!!” Yang cheered.

* * *

So they started playing. Yang was up first, she leaned forward—staring at Blake’s golden eyes. Blake prepared herself for the question. She wasn’t even taken aback by Yang’s intensity. 

“Have you ever kissed another woman?” Those words just carelessly flew from yang’s mouth right at the start of the game. 

“What kind of a question is that!!?” Blake yelled—face red as roses. 

“The one that I asked!” Yang just laughed. “alright, your–” she was cut off. She didn’t really expect it. It was more of a dumb joke question than anything else. That’s not to say Yang wasn’t interested in finding out. She was very interested. 

Blake began to gulp down her entire cup of beer—right in front of yang without any hesitation what-so-ever. Even Yang now had a face of surprise on her. 

“Ahh!” she practically slammed the cup on the bar. This only got the attention of Yang, as for everyone else, it just joined the rest of the ruckus. 

“You know… You don't have to drink the whole thing…”

“What!? I thought–” 

“Nope.” Yang awkwardly laughed. 

“Wow! Alright then, you’re in for it now!” 

“Ooo~” Yang smirked. 

“Have you…” Blake paused. “Ever kissed another woman?” she shot the question right back at Yang. And with a slight chuckle, Yang began to scull her drink too—maintaining eye contact with Blake the whole time. 

Like it was nothing, Yang finished it and placed the cup on the bar for a refill. And then right after, “many.” She smirked. Blake pushed her immediate embarrassment away with a question. 

“Please don't say that I have to scull every time now too?” Also breaking the silence before there was any. 

“No, I was just making things fair.” Yang chuckled. “And I'm pretty sure asking the same question that you were asked is against the rules!” 

Well, you didn’t say that at the beginning!!” 

“I am now!!” 

“That’s cheating!!” 

“Well, my game, my rules.” 

“Well! Maybe I don't want to play your game anymore.” 

“So you’re gonna forfeit and accept defeat then?” Blake stayed silent with a grudging look on her face for a minute. Yang just grinned as she teased Blake. She knew she wouldn’t just give up. 

“Fine. I’ll play. But no more changing the rules!” 

“Deal.” Yang extended her hand and Blake shook it. 

_ Soft, _ Yang thought.  _ How are you such a good shot with soft hands like that?  _

_ Rough,  _ Blake thought.  _ You really are a cowgirl… and yet, you’re nice, and I _ –

“So!” Yang interrupted, pulling her hand away. “Where’d you learn how to shoot?” 

“That’s not how this game works, Yang.” 

She just sighed, “have you ever been in a gang?” 

And Blake drank—only a mouthful this time though. 

“My turn.” She thought for a few moments. “Are you really a bounty hunter?” 

Yang drank, but she almost wasn’t going to, even Blake noticed her hesitation, and Yang noticed that she noticed. 

“I’m also a part-time farm-girl rescuer.” She laughed. 

“Oh, haha.” Blake mocked.

“So, this gang, is that why you hate outlaws?” 

Blake drank this time too, a plain expression sitting on her face. She really hated her past. “I know, it’s weird that I used to be what I hate,” Blake added.

“Could be worse, you could be what you hate.” 

“Mm… what about you? Are you what you hate?” 

“Nope. if I was, this place could be much better.” 

Blake thought a moment. “You hate the government?” 

“Most the time.” Yang paused. “Other times it’s God.” 

“That’s a mood.” Blake pulled forth a phrase from the future. 

“Did your father teach you how to shoot?” Yang asked and Blake drank. 

“Partially.” The farmgirl added. “At first, but a lot of it comes from–” 

“Being an outlaw.” Yang finished. 

“Yeah…” She almost went to drink again before she remembered that they were still actually playing a game. “Did your father teach you?” 

“Mother. I never knew my father.”

“Tch.” 

Yang just smiled. 

“Oh sorry, I didn't–”

“No, it’s fine... Didn’t know him, didn’t need him, and I don't care that I didn't. I never needed anyone else but my mother back then.” 

“Right…” 

“You also broke the rules, so I think you should drink again!” Yang laughed. 

“Fuck, I didn’t realise!” 

The score was now 4 to 2. Blake was losing and she wasn’t too happy about it either.

“You’re losing, Blakey~” Yang spoke with audible cheek in her voice. 

“Shut it.” Blake was cross, very much so. All that was heard in her voice now was the bitterness of a sore loser. 

“Alright, you ever eat–” 

“Dick!” a drunken fool came slouching over Blake. Her blood boiled to the breaking point and she just.

Glass shattered as a man was thrown out the window which had just been repaired today. Blake stood on the inside, ready to step out and—Yang grabbed her hand. 

“Hey.” Yang spoke, “it’s just some drunken idiot, Blake.” she was extremely pissed off. Ready to fight anyone—any number of people. She hadn’t even noticed that she broke a few stitches, that blood leaked through her bandage dressing. She only calmed when she saw Yang, just like before. Violet eyes, a warm smile and a feeling that–

“Hey!!” the bartender yelled. 

“Shut it, old man. Blake looked past Yang, to him. “Bill my father… In fact! Everyone have a round of drinks on Ghira Belladonna!!!” that riled the whole bar up again. The piano that stopped when the window broke started back up and everyone went back to drinking and yelling and gambling like usual. 

“You alright?” Yang asked. 

“Yeah, I’m fine, why?” 

“Well,” Yang paused, “Your arm is bleeding.”

“Oh! So it is.” she poked it once. “Ow!” 

“Now why’d you go and do that?” 

“Couldn’t feel it.” 

“And now, can you feel it now?”

“Yeah, it hurts like hell.” she winced. 

“Hey, old man!” Yang turned around and yelled. ”can you fix her stitches or we gotta go pay the doc another visit!?” 

“Go see my daughter in the back! And no more drinking for both of you tonight—you’ve caused enough trouble!!” 

“Yeah, yeah.” Yang and Blake headed to the backroom after that. 

Down here, past the bar bench, was really only the baths and the owner & his daughter’s room. 

Yang passed the other 3 doors before knocking on the 4th. Being drunk, she kinda held back the restraint with her fist and, 3 loud thumps hit the door, and then after that, 

“What the bloody ‘ell do ya want!!!” A woman yelled on the other side. Blake and Yang were both startled for a moment—they couldn’t quite pin down her accent either—before, 

“Your father said that you can fix my stitches!” Blake yelled. 

The door abruptly opened. 

“Did he now?” the woman—orange hair and pale skin—looked both of them down a moment, “you lot don't look like ya have money.” 

“We do!” Yang insisted. 

“Actual cash, not gold or even an IOU for an unlucky family member.” 

Yang just pulled a $5 note from within her shirt, “can you patch her up or not?” She grew somehow more impatient than Blake herself. 

“Sure.” She snatched up the note. “But it won't do her any good if you stay dirty.” 

The two looked at each other—dirt in their hair, on their face, covering their clothes, it had even crept underneath said clothes, onto their skin. 

“Now that you mention it.” Yang sniffed at her armpit, “I really could use a bath!” 

“I was more so talking about ya friend, so her wound doesn’t get infected…” 

“Blake just silently giggled, trying to hold it back. 

“But sure, whatever. Maurice!!” the orange-haired women called and soon after, a younger-looking women came running. 

“Yes, miss?” she asked—her voice soft, almost shy sounding. 

“Run these two a bath would ya.” She then turned to Blake– “I’ll take care of that arm now then.” 


	8. Answers

With Blake’s stitches fixed, and the baths ready, the girls got clean. They were even given some complimentary pyjamas while Maurice washed, and then set out to dry, their actual clothes. 

If I'm being honest, complimentary was actually the wrong word here. The orange-haired women had ‘given’ them some of her own clean pyjamas for the night. Given… again that was the wrong word. She sold them to the girls. Going on 2 years now, these pyjamas were. And they were definitely not worth the $10 price tag for each either. Areas of them had so many holes that cold breeze blew right through them. They weren’t indecent however, both Yang and Blake would’ve sooner thrown on their wet clothes again than clothes that had holes in the wrong areas—actually I think most people would… most that cared anyway. But to say the least, the pyjamas that they were scammed with were rather worn in all senses of the word.

Yang wore something that was completely not her style at all—she even hated it to an extent. But with no other option and not quite ready to risk pneumonia, she reluctantly wore it. It was a creme coloured nightgown—one made from cotton. It had frilled shoulder straps that hanged rather low—like with most nightgowns—and even frilled across the chest area to the other strap. It was loose in general and almost transparent. The gown ended abruptly before her knees making Yang think, 

“Why’d I get the damn escort outfit!?” she complained to Blake the moment she saw her—just outside the bath rooms—wearing the basic loose button-up pyjama shirt that had horizontal white stripes over a soft light blue. And pants of the same set.

“I for one think you look lovely~” Blake teased. 

“You must be still really drunk because I look horrible.” In truth, however, she didn’t. Her beautiful golden hair flowed freely for just a moment before Yang began to tie it up. Her skin was clean, pristine, and even smelled of lavender from the bath oils. Well, it was clean of dirt. The dozens of scars all over her couldn’t be washed off. Bullet holes and slashes rested over her own arms and body. There was even a stab on her back that you couldn’t quite see. Across her left forearm was a burn mark that covered roughly 60% of it and even went up to her wrist. Other scars existed on her legs and the rest of her body too. Each one had a story, a story she’d always remember. 

“Nah, you’re the most beautiful woman in this whole town,” Blake stated before hiccuping. 

“Alright, you’ve definitely still been drinking, where is it?” 

“I don't know what you’re talking about~” she grinned, walking back, holding something behind her as Yang approached.

“Hand it over, Blake,” Yang practically commanded. 

Blake just kept walking further back the closer Yang got. “Make m–” she was interrupted by the wall against her back. The thud from her back wasn’t the only audible sound just then either. A loud clang or ting sounded from the strong glass bottle that luckily hadn’t broken. 

Yang still got closer and closer. Blake had nowhere to go. No way out was apparent. Yang practically got as close as she could before she slammed her left hand into the wall—about half a ruler from Blake’s head. She moved her face in closer, opening her mouth. 

Blake, even being drunk, her heart was pounding pretty damn fast at this point. Her cheeks flared, chest began to feel tighter, she even got another odd… yearning feeling in her stomach. Her breath even stopped. And while alcohol made her care less about things, this made her feel like nothing else in the whole world, no, whole worlds even mattered at all. Only one thing, one person seemed to matter in that moment. 

She felt something fall. The bottle. Yang caught it. She took a step back with a stupid grin on her face. 

“Thank you~” Yang taunted with the glass bottle of rum right before taking a swig from it. Blake regained her breath, regained her senses, she recentered herself. 

“You bastard!” she snapped. 

“What?” Yang just smirked, eyebrow raised, a playful tone in her voice.

Yang now wore her gun-belt over the nightgown—Ember and Celica comfortably sat by her waist. Her crisscrossed shotgun ammo belt sat over her chest too. She walked back out to the common area of the saloon—Blake following behind. Yang hated people seeing her in the gown but she had to go through the area, up the stairs, to get to her room. Someone even almost said something but Yang spotted him and shot a glare that almost made the sheepherder piss his pants. 

“If any of you say a damn thing—EVER—i will end your miserable existence and send you to the gods early.” her words cut through any of the ideas anyone else had. And just like that, Blake and Yang headed up the creaky stairs to their room, by the front of the saloon. The room had a single bed that they’d have to share because Yang only had enough cash left for the one, and the old man wasn’t gonna let Blake raise Ghira’s tab any further, for fear of his own life. So they were left with no other choice. But even if things were different, if they did have separate rooms, I'm sure, one way or the other, they’d have ended up in the same room anyway. 

Yang opened the wooden door, sticking in the metal key, unlocking it and then turning the wooden doorknob. The room was small as expected. The bed size was barely enough to fit two people on it but they’d make due. The room had 1 window to the side of the bed that looked out over the mud street out front the saloon. Yang shut the white curtains on that as soon as she could. The rest of the room wasn’t made up of too much else. The bed had a small table on either side, a dresser a meter across from the face of the bed and a final, longer, dresser rested by the side of the door, across from the bed, opposite to the window. 

Blake flicked on the light switch, which was also by the door, in the moment she entered—right after Yang.

“Well, this is small.” 

“Can't expect much from a saloon,” Yang remarked. Right after, she jumped onto the bed, laying down and almost breaking the poor thing. 

“That doesn’t sound good.” 

“Never does.” she laughed before taking another swig from the bottle that she snuck into the room. 

Blake sat down on the bed beside her and reached out for the bottle.

Yang handed it over and Blake, too, took a swig from it. “so this is it then,” Blake spoke up. “We’re just gonna slowly drink this until we pass out?” 

“You got any better ideas?”Yang reached for the bottle of rum.

“In fact, I do.” Blake didn’t hand it over. 

Yang just sighed. “What?” 

“Our game! We didn’t finish it!” 

“Oh right… where were we again?” 

“You were winning, 4 to 2…” 

“Hehe, oh yeah!” Yang grinned. She sat up at the head of the bed. 

“I'm first,” Blake stated. 

“Go ahead~” 

“...Have you ever…” 

“Yeah?” 

“You ever sleep with someone before?” 

“Like, sleep or sleeeep?” 

“Um... “ Blake’s face reddened, she almost went to drink from the bottle but Yang grabbed it and drank first. 

“I’m 25, I've done both.” She laughed. ‘What about you?” 

“You’re not allowed to ask the same question, Yang!” Blake protested. 

‘Crap, stupid fucking rules.” she drank again. 

“You made them.” Blake reminded with a cheeky smile and Yang just grumbled in return.

“Go on, ask again already!” 

“Hmm… do you regret not taking my mother’s money?”

“Nope.” 

“Tch.” 

“Aren’t you supposed to like, be happy about that or something!?” 

“Somewhat…” 

“Wow, alright,” Yang spoke. “Have you ever slept with someone from your old gang.

“......” Blake stayed deathly silent, just snatching the bottle from Yang and drinking. 

“Ooo, spicy,” Yang remarked. 

“Shut up.” she coughed from the rum. “She was my girlfriend at that time.” Blake reasoned. 

“Ah... yeah, intergang relationships never work out…” 

“You’re telling me…” Blake looked at her, ready to ask the next question. “Do you regret meeting me?” 

Yang looked at her oddly for a moment. “Not one bit.” she smiled with a slight grin. Blake felt it again—the same feeling as before. 

“Do you…” Yang began, as easily 100 questions crossed her mind. She searched for the right one amongst a scattered sea of wrongs. “Are you,” she changed the question’s form—somewhat surprising Blake a tad. “...happy that you met me?” 

“That's the same question!” Blake blurted out. 

“Technically, it’s not.” Yang laughed. 

“Well technically, right now I'm not happy I met you.” 

“Lying is also against the rules, Blake.” 

‘Ugh.” she just gave in and drank again, almost a whole mouthful this time.” 

“I’ve almost won!!” Yang cheered. 

“You’re a cheater!” Blake punched Yang lightly in the arm. 

“Oww!” she couldn’t hold herself back from laughing after that. Blake continued to grumble before asking her next question. 

“Do you think I'm hot?” 

“Like, as in attractive?”

‘No, as in the fucking temperature, Yang!” 

“Hehehe, you’re smoking~” 

“Then drink!” she handed it over forcefully and Yang soon enough gulped down what was almost 2 shots, preparing herself for her next question. 

“Would you…” she spoke, moving the bottle away from her lips. “Fuck me?” that sentence almost caused both girls to fully meltdown. Blake just grabbed the bottle and drank. She kept drinking until the 3rd shot when Yang would actually stop her. 

“Woah, slow down, farm girl.” Yang stole the bottle and drank even more herself. 

“Well, I guess you win.” Blake sounded somewhat defeated. 

“What’s my prize?” 

“Me not slapping you in the face for that question and getting me so drunk.” 

“Hey, this place was your idea!”

“I just wanted to piss my father off was all.” 

“So you didn’t want to drink with me at all?” 

“I didn’t mean that.” Blake looked Yang in the eyes, about to say something, “I wanted to drink with you and piss him off!” She laughed. 

“Hehe, mission complete then! He’s gonna be furious when he finds out about that tab you left him!” 

“Oh yeah, I forgot about that!” She started to lose it after that. 

“Hehehehe,” Yang joined her too. 

“But… you know, I still feel like doing something else that’s stupid…” 

“Well, I'm pretty stupid.” Yang semi flirted. 

“You are pretty.” she moved closer to Yang. “and kinda stupid sometimes.” she slightly smirked. 

The two were close now. Closer than they ever were before, both physically and–

“Then do me!” Yang spoke—her tone, the look on he face, every inch of her body language right now. Blake’s body practically shuddered in reaction. Goose bumps even formed. That was it. The moment that she—Blake Belladonna—stopped flirting and finally went in for it. She kissed Yang. wildly, passionately. Yang pulled her closer. The room just continued to heat up with each moment. Blake pulled away a second to unbutton her shirt.    
  


“Took your time~” Yang smirked.    
Blake stopped and just pushed Yang down against the bed, kissing her again. “shut.” she spoke in the short moments she had away from Yang’s lips. “Up.” 

**Author's Note:**

> So i actually have 7 more chapters of this basically ready for posting but I do plan on leaving the last 3 for Bumbleby week. So idk if i should post the other 4 now or just spread them out periodically until Bumbleby week


End file.
